


dawn

by Suituuup



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Break Up, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, Implied/Referenced Cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 00:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suituuup/pseuds/Suituuup
Summary: Beca comes to a decision. Sequel to Addicted. Bechloe week "Why are you here?"





	dawn

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to my fic [Addicted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15871176) (rated E). I strongly recommand you read it to understand this one.

Beca drops her bag with a heavy sigh. The drive back from New York was more painful than usual. 

Chloe’s words seemed to be trapped in her head, haunting her otherwise hollow brain during the entire journey.

_Don’t call me, don’t text me._

She lets her keychain fall from her fingers into the bowl next to the entry and takes off her shoes. Body staggering against the shut door, Beca drops her head into her hands with a groan. 

She doesn’t know where she messed up with her life, which decisions led her to be this miserable. She hates everything about it. The suburban house, the white picket fence, her boring job and the fucking mom SUV she owns even though she doesn’t have any kids. It’s terrible. 

She’s actually a pretty terrible person herself. She's hurt Chloe, and she’s been hurting Jesse every couple of weeks over the last year and a half, even though he doesn’t know it. 

Yet. Ever?

Pushing back against the onslaught of tears, Beca sniffles and draws a huge breath through her mouth, chest constricting painfully when she releases it. 

She checks her phone, partially hoping for any sign of Chloe. The blank screen glares back at her mockingly. 

Padding to the kitchen, Beca closes her eyes briefly before rounding the corner. 

“Hey!” Jesse is there, cooking at the stove of their modest kitchen, greeting her with that smile she fell in love with almost ten years ago. “I was wondering when you’d be back.” 

He kisses her lightly and is already pouring her a glass of wine before she can utter a word. Beca accepts the glass, downing it steadily when Jesse has his back turned and reaching for the open bottle to refill it. 

“How was New York?” he asks as he stirs whatever he’s cooking. 

New York. Right. Blue eyes, fiery red hair, her name tumbling out of her lover’s lips like a sweet prayer.

Beca tries to pry those thoughts away from her mind. “It, uh, it was alright.” 

“Yeah?” Her husband twists his head to glance back to her with a frown. “You seem off.” 

Beca shrugs, scratching the tip of her nose with a knuckle as she clears her throat. “Just tired, I guess.” 

Jesse seems to accept that answer and turns back to the stove. “Oh! I saw an amazing house for sale on my way home. It's got three bedrooms and a big garden and would be perfect for whenever we have kids.” 

Beca freezes, an unpleasant chill running down her spine. The mere thought of starting a family with Jesse makes her insides twist and her skin crawl unpleasantly. She hates herself for it, and is glad that Jesse isn’t looking at her because she knows the surge of anxiety suddenly smothering her must be written all over her features.

His words work as a tall glass of icy water being pour over her head. She doesn’t want this. She doesn’t want kids with Jesse. She’s known that for awhile, but never really admitted it aloud.

“Um, can we talk?” she asks with uncertainty, eyes widening as her own words echo back at her. 

She doesn’t know if it’s Jesse’s comment, or the fact that she might lose Chloe forever that make the words barrel like a catapult past her teeth.

Jesse stares at her in curiosity as he wipes his hands on a kitchen towel. “Sure.” 

“Maybe we should sit down,” Beca edged, motioning towards the table. Jesse’s demeanor falls immediately as he follows her, grasping her hand across the table as soon as they are sat. 

“Are you-” Jesse visibly swallows with difficulty at that. “Are you sick?” 

“No,” Beca reassures him immediately, though the question makes her even guiltier. She is about to shatter his heart and he has absolutely no clue. “No, I’m not sick.” 

Jesse’s hand slides from hers as he sits back in his chair. “What is it, then?” 

“I can’t do this anymore.” 

There. 

It’s out. 

Beca knows the worst is yet to come, but the knowledge that she can’t backtrack brings her some kind of weird and twisted sense of comfort. 

Jesse stares at her, mouth gaping without a sound escaping. More words pour out of Beca's mouth as though the knob to turn off the faucet quit working. 

“I can’t go on with the way I live, I _hate_ it. I hate my job, I hate the fucking suburbs, I hate-”

“Me?” 

Jesse’s voice is quiet; almost inaudible, yet it still holds enough power to alter Beca’s breathing. Beca finally meets his eyes to find them watery. Her heart cracks in her chest, as though split open with a hammer and chisel.

“No,” she replies softly, shoulders slumping as tears gather in her eyes as well. “I could never hate you. You’ve been nothing short of wonderful to me and I love you.” 

Jesse straightens up in his chair, jaw clenching and unclenching several times. The sound of his teeth rubbing together back and forth makes goosebumps pop from under Beca's skin. “But?” 

“But I’m not _in love_ with you anymore.” 

Jesse blinks and doesn’t say anything for a while. Beca didn’t expect silence. She expected shouts, and anger and frustration, not stunned silence. It makes it more difficult somehow, holds more pressure atop her shoulders. 

“Wow,” Jesse shakes his head slightly, raking his fingers through his hair. “I…” 

“I never meant to hurt you, Jesse,” A sob worms its way out of Beca’s throat. “You’re such a beautiful person and I hate myself for-”

Jesse finally looks up from the table surface. “Is there someone else?” 

Ah, the dreaded question. She thought she could dance around it, but Jesse cuts straight to the chase. He stares at her hard. 

“Jesse…” 

“Answer me,” Jesse’s tone switches from stunned to bitter cold. “Is there someone else?” 

Beca thinks there’s no point in lying anymore. She’s done it too much already. She has hurt him enough already, she owes him the truth. 

“Y-yeah. Yes, there is.” 

Beca is the one to look down this time, the hurt flashing in Jesse’s eyes too painful to stand. 

“Do I know him?” 

Beca draws in a sharp breath, bracing herself for the bomb she's about to drop.

“It’s Chloe.” 

Surprising even herself, Beca glances up in time to see Jesse’s eyes widen over the piece of information. 

“Chlo-Chloe?” His voice squeaks over her lover’s name. “ _How?_ ”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Beca croaks out, a few tears toppling down her cheeks. She reaches up to wipe them away, but it’s useless as fresh ones replace them mere seconds later. “I saw her again in New York and we went for drinks and-”

“How long?” Jesse snaps. “How long have you been cheating on me with her?” 

Beca's head shakes restlessly. “It’s not important.” 

“It’s important to _me_. I need to know how long you’ve been breaking our wedding vows to remain faithful to each other.” 

Beca winces at the tone and the spike of hurt it sends to her chest. He’s right though and she can’t come up with anything to defend her choices and actions. She _is_ a cheater. 

Beca clears her throat, swallowing heavily. “A little over a year.” 

“A little over a _year_?” Jesse stands up harshly and starts to pace around the room. “Jesus Christ.” 

“I’m sorry,” Beca murmurs. It's barely audible, her voice drowning in her guilt. “I’m so sorry, Jesse.” 

Jesse stops in the middle of the room, shoulders slumping and head hanging low. “So am I.” 

He doesn’t say another word and leaves the kitchen. Beca buries her head into her hands and silently cries as she hears the dangling of keys and a couple seconds later, the front door slamming. 

It takes her a while to gather her bearings and shove down her emotions. 

While Jesse is gone, she packs her essentials in her suitcase. A suitcase she leaves by the front door while she waits for Jesse to come home. 

He only does around two am, the numbers glaring at Beca when she looks at her phone upon hearing the front door open and close. Beca blinks any sleepiness away from her eyes and stands from the couch. 

She finds Jesse by the front door, frozen in his tracks as he stares at her suitcase. 

“Hey,” 

Jesse’s head snaps up. “Hey.” 

His voice is as hoarse as hers, probably from crying just as much as she did, if not more. _She_ is the one leaving _him_. He has every reason to be upset. 

“So this is real, huh?” he asks, pointing to her suitcase. “You’re leaving.” 

“Yeah, I…” Beca walks closer, hands buried in the back pockets of her jeans. She doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t feel like anything she says would make the situation any better. “Yeah. I got a hotel room for tonight.” 

Jesse nods several times, as though still trying to convince himself that this is really real. Beca can't blame him. “You could have spent the night in the guest-room.” 

“No I… I think it’s for the best that I leave tonight. I’m sorry.” Beca says quietly as she comes to a stop in front of him. “I wish I could find happiness without hurting you in the process. That’s not what I wanted.”

“I know,” Jesse’s tone is soft, almost soothing and Beca’s jaw gapes open. “What you did was bad but... you’re not a bad _person_ , Beca. You’re in love with someone else, and there’s nothing either of us can really do about it.” 

She wonders how Jesse can leave his heartbreak aside and act so maturely. Without thinking it through, Beca steps closer and wraps her arms around her husband’s waist, resting her head against his chest. Jesse tenses at first, before his own arms come to wrap loosely around her shoulders. 

They stand there for some time, because they both know it’s the last time they get to do this. To be so close. They both know this hug is the last line of their love story. 

Beca pulls away gently, wiping at her cheeks as more tears manage to leak out. 

“I, uh, I’ll have my lawyer contact you?” 

Jesse clears his throat, jamming his hands into his pockets. “Okay.” 

Beca takes a deep breath and is about to grab her suitcase when the glint of her rings catches her eye. She falters, wincing. With a bit of a struggle from wearing them all these years, she manages to slide them off her finger while Jesse pretends he isn’t watching. 

She sets them on the table by the door, along with her house key. Grabbing the end of her suitcase, Beca looks back one last time to her husband. 

“Goodbye, Jesse.” 

He doesn't answer. She tries to ignore the sob that rings out when the door clicks shut and wipes the tears sliding down on her cheeks without looking back.

After a restless night of sleep, Beca finds herself making the two-hour drive to New York the following afternoon. 

She briefly wonders if what she did last night was the biggest mistake she’s ever made. She left her loving husband to hopefully be with the woman she’s in love with, whose last words to her were _don’t call me, don’t text me._

Beca did neither of those things. Out of fright, maybe. Out of audacity, possibly. Showing up at Chloe’s clinic on the outskirts of the city sounds more romantic, bolder, but also terrifying. 

Beca could get it all or lose it all. 

Turning off the engine in front of the clinic Chloe works at, Beca takes a deep breath in. It’s just about to be closing time. The flowers she got for Chloe are next to her on the passenger seat and the only thing Beca has left to do is get out of the car, walk inside and tell Chloe how much she loves her. 

How she wants to be with her. 

How she wants to do this life thing with her. 

No biggie. 

“Dude, get yourself together,” Beca tells herself in some form of a pep-talk, fingers drumming against her thigh. When Chloe’s colleague walks out of the clinic and Beca sees her flip the sign to ‘CLOSED’, she knows that’s her cue. 

Beca gets out of the car, hand clenching the bouquet as she takes the few steps up to the door. The bell chimes when she pushes it open. 

“I’m sorry we’re closed!” Beca’s heart does that weird somersault upon hearing Chloe’s angelic voice, and it starts to hammer in her ears the closer that voice gets as Chloe rounds the corner. “Unless it’s for an emer-”

Chloe pauses upon seeing the brunette by the doorway. The smile drops from her face and her hands fall limply by her sides as she stares at her. 

“Beca,” 

“Um, hi,” 

Beca feels her mouth dry up as every bit of the speech she had prepared to claim Chloe’s heart vanish from her brain in the drop of a hat. She winces internally at herself and clears her throat. 

“Why are you here?” Chloe’s tone is biting, her blue eyes uncharacteristically cold. “I thought I was clear yesterday when I -- ”

“I’d, I’d like to take you out to dinner,” Beca interrupts, releasing a slow breath. Now or never. “Because I think, well no, I _know_ , that I’m in love with you and I would really like to show you that.” 

“I don’t-” Chloe closes her eyes briefly and shakes her head. “I don’t follow.” 

“I left Jesse,” she blurts out, letting that information sink into Chloe’s brain before she resumes. It still feels foreign even to her. “I couldn’t pretend anymore. Couldn’t pretend that my heart didn’t belong to someone else.” She swallows thickly to reign her emotions in. “Couldn't pretend that my heart didn't belong to you, and you only, Chlo.” 

Beca edges closer, as Chloe’s feet seem to be rooted to the floor while she stares at Beca, an unreadable expression painted on her face. 

“You -- ” Chloe blinks twice in slow succession, shock holding her features captive. “You left Jesse?” 

Beca nods. “Last night. The mere thought of not getting to have you in my life anymore was unbearable and it made me realize that I’m not happy with Jesse. I’m not happy when you’re not around.” Beca takes a deep breath, her shoulders slumping along with the exhale, free of that excruciating weight added from pretending this part year and a half. “Who was I even kidding? I’m _yours_ , Chloe. _Of course_ I’m yours,” There’s a desperate edge in her voice as she speaks, the words she’s ignored for so long begging to spill out all at once. “I’m so in love with you that it _hurts_ when you’re not around.” 

“I…” Chloe shakes her head faintly, and Beca can almost see the millions of thoughts assaulting Chloe’s brain right now. 

Beca swallows thickly, her chest constricting painfully. “I know it’s a lot. And I don’t expect you to commit to anything right away, I just… I’m just asking you if you’ll give me a chance to prove to you that you’re _it_ , Chlo. That -- that I’m not going anywhere. That I won’t be a coward anymore.” 

A strangled noise leaves Chloe’s throat. “Bec…”

The familiar nickname makes Beca’s heart clench in her chest. “I plan on getting an apartment here in NYC and find a job and -- and we can date for a while. We can take things slow, no pressure. I just - I just want to have you in my life again, Chlo.” Her breathing turns shallow when Chloe remains silent, each second ticking by squeezing that vine tighter around her heart. 

“I…” Chloe clears her throat, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “You mentioned something about dinner?” 

Beca didn’t expect Chloe to give her a chance at this point and she’s surged with such relief she could cry. 

“Yeah,” Her voice carries her emotions and Chloe must notice it, since her expression softens and the cold mask slips away. “I don’t have any reservation or anything because I -- I didn’t want to assume.”

A small, genuine smile graces Chloe’s lips. Beca’s lungs are flooded with much needed air. “That’s okay.” 

“Oh, um,” She steps closer, handing Chloe the bouquet of flowers she’s been clutching for dear life. “These are for you.” 

Chloe’s eyes twinkle as she accepts the bouquet of daisies -- Chloe has always been simple when it comes to flowers, stating that roses were overrated. “Thank you. Let me put these into water and grab my coat.” 

“Sure thing.” 

Dinner goes off without a hitch, and as always when it comes to she and Chloe, their natural connexion sparks easily and they find themselves skipping over awkward small talk to reminisce in memories from their Barden days. Unbeknownst to them, minutes turn into hours and they are gently told it’s closing time after what feels like twenty minutes.

Beca drops Chloe back at her clinic around ten pm and walks her to her car parked in the clinic employee parking lot. Chloe says something about cooking dinner tomorrow. 

“Thanks for tonight, Beca.” Chloe murmurs as she fiddles with her keys. 

“Thanks for letting me take you out to dinner.” Beca replies, shoving her hands into her pockets. “I won’t mess up, Chlo.” 

“I know,” Chloe’s voice makes her look up. Her eyes are kind and soft and trusting. She leans in to kiss Beca’s cheek. “Night, Bec.” 

Chloe’s car is long gone by the time Beca is able to muster some kind of sound. A genuine smile plays on her lips, something akin to happiness bursting through her veins.

It feels like the beginning of the rest of her life.


End file.
